


Buckshot and Breakfast

by pennydrabbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Gender Neutral, M/M, One Shot, Reader-Insert, Romance, imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennydrabbles/pseuds/pennydrabbles
Summary: Prompt: Reader is Bobby's kid, trying to hide their relationship with Dean so their dad doesn't kill them both. Bobby knows exactly what's going on.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 33





	Buckshot and Breakfast

The heat of Dean’s hands on your hips was driving you out of your mind. You straddled his lap in the back of the Impala, your fingernails scraping lightly at his scalp, just enough to make him moan in the most sinfully perfect way. You smiled as you kissed him harder, sweeping your tongue into his mouth.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dean mumbled with a kiss between each word.

You barely pulled back, trailing your hands down his chest as you nipped at his earlobe.

“Don’t tell me you’re feeling shy now, Winchester,” you replied.

“God, no, it’s just…” Dean turned his head to look out the window. “Are you sure you made a clean getaway?”

You sat back in mild annoyance.

“I told you twice already. I wasn’t followed.”

Still, Dean looked distracted. You shifted forward and closed your mouth over his neck, the flat of your tongue pressed to his pulse. His fingers flexed on your hips, sliding further around the small of your back to pull you closer.

“Relax,” you whispered.

Dean let out a strangled laugh. “Kinda hard to do that when I’m waiting for your old man to hunt me down with a shotgun.”

“Bobby likes you.”

“Yeah, because he doesn’t know we’re -” 

Dean sucked in a breath as you slipped your hands under his shirt, fingers skimming feather-light along the warm, bare skin of his torso.

“We’re what?” you said, teasing.

“Doing this,” he croaked. 

You bit your lip, fingers dipping lower to unhook Dean’s belt buckle. A moment later, the rasp of his zipper was the only sound in the dark interior of the Impala. 

“Doing what, Dean?” you said with a pleased hum.

His eyes fluttered closed and his head tipped back, swearing under his breath.

*** 

The next morning, you clattered down the stairs, following the smell of coffee and breakfast. But when you stepped into the kitchen, you slid to a stop.

Dean sat at the table, a full plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of him. Bobby leaned against the counter, a shotgun nestled in his arms like a baby.

Dean looked green around the gills, his food untouched.

“Hey, kiddo,” Bobby said as if nothing was wrong. “Hungry?”

You glanced between Dean and Bobby, your stomach churning.

“Dad, what’s going on?”

“You tell me.”

You kept your mouth shut and sank into the chair across from Dean, waiting for the inevitable lecture coming your way. But Dean spoke up first, shoulders square, jaw set. You knew that look - he was determined to do the right thing, even if it meant being eaten alive.

“Bobby, let me just say, this is all my fault,” he said. 

Bobby scoffed. “Like hell it is. Have you met my kid? Besides, you haven’t been the one climbing out of the window in the middle of the night for the past nine months.”

You shriveled in your seat. “You knew all this time?”

Bobby shot you a withering look as if to say, _of course I did._

“Y’all ain’t as subtle as you like to think you are,” he said. 

You groaned and buried your face in your hands.

“Now,” Bobby said. “The next time you idjits sneak around behind my back, you’ll both get a load of buckshot in your backsides. Clear?”

You and Dean nodded.

“And you,” Bobby said, pointing at Dean. “Don’t hurt my kid. You’ve seen what I do to demons. But you’ve got no idea what kind of hell I bring to the table if you break my kid’s heart. Understood?”

Dean grimaced. “Yes, sir.”

Bobby set aside the shotgun - keeping it within reach - and picked up his coffee cup. Discussion over.

After a moment, you said in a very small voice, “Dad?”

Bobby just looked at you.

“I love him,” you said.

Bobby paused, cup halfway to his lips. 

“I want to keep seeing Dean,” you continued, marveling that you were able to speak when you felt shaky all over. “Even if you don’t like it.”

Silence. The clock in the hallway ticked away minute after minute.

At last, Bobby set aside his cup. He crossed to your side and tipped your chin up.

“I’m not trying to stop you, kiddo,” Bobby said. “Why do you think I made breakfast for the two of you? Just stop climbing out of that window in the middle of the night. You’ll give your old man a heart attack.”

You jumped up and threw your arms around Bobby’s neck. “Thank you,” you whispered in a choked voice.

Bobby awkwardly patted your back. You drew away and turned to Dean. He looked a little stunned and that’s when you remembered what you’d said. 

_I love him._

You stepped closer, placing your hand against his cheek. Dean blinked, gazing up at you.

“I’m yours,” you said. “If you still want me.”

For a split second, Dean didn’t move and you had the horrible feeling he would bolt out the door.

Then he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head against your stomach. You kissed the top of his head with a smile.


End file.
